Sleigh Bells Treats

When a low frequency sound is turned up to high and resonates at just the right rate something very alarming can occur within the thoracic cavity. With enough force from the right vibrations, a lung can collapse in on itself. You’ll be out of breath, in great pain and you’ll (most likely) collapse from a combination of the two. The four, repetitive 808 hits that punctuate album opener Tell ‘Em are of the lung collapsing, subwoofer busting variety. Skinny, lanky males are most at risk for this condition. Hopefully Sleigh Bells manage to kill more than a few underfed hipsters before their plot is exposed.

The bass is turned up loud. The kick drum is turned up loud. The guitars are deafening and crash down around you, all while an angelic female voice floats above the din, murmuring borderline silly, twee lyrics. It’s completely fucking unique. Literally, there is no one else out there like Sleigh Bells, and no album like Treats. No one has ever combined badassery and twee so effectively. Nor has anyone ever combined electronic beats with shoegaze inspired vocals and over-the-top guitars that could have come right out of a late 90’s rap-rock hit. It’s one long, continuous and ridiculous genre blurring experiment. It veers from incredibly aggressive guitar and distorted vocals to far softer melodies within a single song. No one makes all out noise as innocently appealing as Sleigh Bells.

There’s no escaping that it’s an incredibly interesting listen. There’s also no escaping that it’s just plain good, fun even. It’s a deafening dance party, a punishing rock album with the flow and execution of a perfectly arranged DJ set. Being interesting, unique, fun and damn good is near impossible to pull off. Sleigh Bells has done it on Treats, and goddamn is it good. This review sounds like a broken record, but I don’t care. Listen to Treats and you won’t either. Listen to it good and loud. You might be out of a lung and subwoofer, but it’s worth it. Trust me.